Page 52 of The Book Signing

A moment of excitement and disbelief moves through me. My thoughts go to Abigail immediately despite deep down inside. I know it’s not her. I overheard her chatting–or more like flirting with the receptionist at the hotel about her flight. A completely different one than mine, even landing in LA for her layover. At that thought, any excitement disappears, and I’m back in the world of irritation at her. At myself. How everything turned to complete shit at the end of the fun and interesting time on our brief vacation. Queensland was a nice change from the snow and wind chills back at home.

Once I’m off the plane and leaving the tarmac, I walk fast towards the gates, inching my way through, so I can get out of the chaos. I’m tired as itis and shuffling between hundreds of people who are going in the same direction just tires me out even more.

Finally, I make my way indoors and find the usual spot near the news agency inside the airport, where Greg and I agreed to meet. I notice he is talking on his cell, so I slow my pace, steering my mini carry-on beside me. I stop behind him, leaving enough distance so it doesn’t look like I’m hovering over him, but suddenly my ears pick up a word.

I hear her name, and it doesn’t sound good.

Curiosity peaks and I nudge myself a little closer and concentrate on what he is talking about. He sounds a bit agitated and distracted, which is not his usual self and only piques my curiosity further.

“Yes, Susan. I know I made it a bit of a spectacle. I don’t care about the others if they fell for it too, but Abigail did, so it worked just as I expected.” He laughs, as if he’d executed the perfect plan.

What the fuck? Why is he talking about Abigail to Susan? She’s just his PR assistant.

I open my mouth to ask, but he continues talking. “Nah, he has no idea. Frankly, I think it’s best he stays away from her. He should be focusing on his next book, marketing campaigns, and thenon himself. A woman with opposite ideologies is going to fuck with his mind. I know my brother. I’m just worried about his concentration. When I was at the resort, I was watching him around her and saw the way he looked at her when she was talking. This is not the Jaxon we know. I don’t like it. How the fuck am I going to make a cent on his next book if there won’t be one? I know blood is thicker than water, but this is still my career.”

“Tell me what you really think, why don’t you?” I spit out, unable to hold back my anger at this jerk who is my twin brother for fuck’s sakes! Screw the agent part. That comes second.

My thoughts go back to the days when we were younger, before we got into business together. Even in college, he was always the cocky jock who charmed his way into the ladies’ pants, whilst I sat on the outside rolling my eyes at his actions. My head was always down, majoring in Data Science, and dreaming of a career. I was always in his shadows, though, even with the ladies. No one gave me a second glance because they were enthralled with Greg. He always strayed and left them crying on my shoulders. Then he finally matured and worked on getting a degree in Public Relations. For a time, I was proud to see him focusing, and thenonce my book got popular, he mentioned that it’d be cool to work together.

He also rooted for me, and my new lifestyle, so it made sense. Greg encouraged me to sleep with other women, to get over Natasha, and quickly. It was also a good time and felt like we were bonding more than ever. He always seemed happy to see the new side of me. It’s almost as if he hated I had a desire to settle down, but despite his opinions, we are brothers and never fought on the topic. I wanted a tight relationship with him and when we both fell into a business-related rhythm; it felt awesome.

But I’ve known him all my life, and it’s clear as day to me that a leopard doesn’t change his spots. He is still as sly as he was when we were younger.

My mind waves away the memories as I straighten my posture and cross my arms.

Greg’s eyes widen, and he purses his lip, quickly hanging up. He shoves the cell into his back pocket. “Buddy, it’s not–” but nothing comes out. It’s like his brain couldn’t shovel up a good enough excuse.

“It’s exactly the way I think.” I narrow my eyes at my brother, filled with disappointment. “Explain what the hell is going on here, Greg.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Look, it’s just… I wanted to make sure that this Writer’s Festival was successful for you, and well, I found Abigail Rosens being not only competition, but a distraction.”

The memory of how I sent him a message cancelling jet skiing with him to spend some time with Abigail pops into mind.

“Yeah, and what’s that got to do with you, or me, being successful? It was just an event. It wasn’t a deal breaker situation, plus Abi and I are none of your business.”

The moment a smirk appears on Greg’s face, I realize I called her Abi.

“See, there you go!” He waves his hands and says, “She would make you see differently, doubt yourself and your work. It will lead to a decline in effort and passion for writing. Women ruin everything in the end. You should know.”

I grit my teeth and swear my fist wants to meet his face, but I keep my cool. Not in the airport.

“You’re fired,” I spit out, anger rolling through me.

He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t give a fuck, Jaxon. Business wise, you’re not the only client I have, so…” he shrugs his shoulders. “I know when a man falls under a woman’s spell, and you are falling for the queen of monogamy. Read her book and you’ll see. You fucked competition, and now it’s fucked with you. Tell me something, any thoughts on your next project? Still reeling in anger and bitterness over an ex? Or now are you thinking about a woman and wanting more?”

“Why are you so insistent on her being my competition? We have two different opinions, that’s it.”

He rolls his eyes as he moves aside to let a couple walk past him, reminding me we’re still in the airport. “Because you’ll get your feelings involved, and then your opinion will change. Your view of being with more than one woman, and no strings attached sex, will dissipate and all you will want is one woman. What the hell are you going to write, then?”

I get his point. Even so, it sucks to hear it from him.

Then he lifts a finger and makes a conniving smirk. “Oh, and now that I’m no longer your agent, I think it’s alright for me to point out that the reason Abigail had her panties in a twist was because I crashed her event. You both certainly fell for it when I pretended to look like you, and by the expression on her face, it was priceless. I tried to ruffle her feathers and get her readers to questionher one-night stand with a man when she writes about, ‘Being a better person and promising yourself to one.’ Such bullshit.” Greg’s expression only highlights how he feels about it. He then picks up his hand luggage and says, “Good luck with making a fool of yourself. Your taxi is waiting for you outside.” He storms off in the other direction without a backwards glance.

I clench my fists as I continue watching him walk off, my jaw tense and heart pounding with anger. Just like that, I’m left again in a mess of my own doing. I don’t know if I’ll regret it or be happy with the decision to cut Greg loose.

Either way, this is a shitshow and I’m left agentless, and I think, perhaps a little heart broken.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

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